


One Hand, Two Hearts

by Dragaeth



Series: WIP [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, I love tomarrymort and I feel like a traitor, I might chicken out of writing explicit stuff, Lima Syndrome, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, but not really, dubcon, objectified sex, writing drarry for endgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28351398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragaeth/pseuds/Dragaeth
Summary: Harry Potter, shackled to the walls in the cold grimy dungeons  of Malfoy Manor, woke up and chose violence. But physical fights were never his forte, and who said violence was only physical?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Harry Potter/Voldemort
Series: WIP [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100000
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter, the Chosen One, almost escaped Malfoy Manor. Dobby had too little life, too little magic to help Harry out of the manor. Blinded by the vengeance he seeked for Dobby and from Bellatrix Lestrange once again, he got sloppy. He got stunned. He was brought to the dungeons, awaiting for Lord Voldemort. He was shackled with muggle methods, oddly enough. Malfoy Manor must've been a muggle resident before the Malfoy's took over it, he thought absently, trying to not break down. At least his friends were alive. Hopefully they could figure out where the rest of the horcruxes were without him, he resigned himself. Death came for everyone, after all. Even if his might come earlier than he wished, but not unexpected. 

What did Hagrid say about mokeskin pouches? Only the owner could open it? He carefully patted his robes, careful to not let the chains jingle and was pleasantly surprised to find his invisibility cloak still there. _They must've been in a rush and knew I had no wand_ , he thought, thrilled that he still had his cloak. He stuffed it into his mokeskin pouch, determined not to give Voldemort any more advantages he already had. He was slightly skeptical about the whole master of death business, but If Voldemort thought it was real, it was good enough for him. 

As he heard movement by the door, he reflexively relaxed his body into a sleep like state. This was one of those rare times he was somewhat thankful to have horrible relatives. He felt a spell wash over him, forcing him to jolt up. Eyes open, he took in the form of the body of Voldemort, red eyed and pale skinned, hairless, noseless. _Wasn't he also able to smell emotions or something?_ He recalled from the graveyard. Mortified of the potential invasion of privacy, he tried to back away from his nose. 

Lord Voldemort gave an inhuman chuckle. “Terrified of me already, Potter? As you should be, I am, after all, Lord Voldemort. And none of your little friends can help you out of this. A bit late though, don't you think? Ah well, at least you've finally learned of my power,” he smirked, satisfied as Harry was trying to not burst into hysterical laughter while desperately maintaining his ‘terrified’ emotion. ‘I am a bear and everyone is either running from me or hunting me down’ was the first thing he thought to himself, forcing himself to feel terrified as the back of his mind was hesitantly smug. If he could trick Voldemort like this, he might gain a semblance of leverage.

Harry stayed silent and ‘terrified’ and let Voldemort smugly go on about his accomplishments. He was learning quite a lot, and was honestly just waiting for the moment he would be killed and was getting impatient. “Why aren't I dead already?” He blurted out, interrupting the snakeman. 

Voldemort grinned maliciously, a disturbing glint in his eyes. “I am going to take everything you love about this world and destroy it, and make you watch as I do so,” Harry didn't have to manufacture his horror this time. But when the feeling faded out of confidence for his friend’s survival skills, he imagined his hands without fingernails. Voldemort's face stretched at whatever he was smelling. 

Then a thought occurred to him. If he- no, but what if- but hang on- hope bloomed as his idea formed into a relatively elaborate plan. “You won't be able to,” he replied confidently. 

Voldemort arched an eyebrow. “Do you doubt me, Harry Potter? Fine then, I will hunt down every single person and thing you have ever loved and destroy them so utterly nothing can repair them. You can't stop me, _prisoner_. This is a guarantee, a vow, if you will, and soon you will have nothing to fight for.”

He had almost slumped in relief but caught himself, and pictured himself running from Dudley’s gang. Scared and desperate. He stayed silent. Once it seemed Voldemort was satisfied, the noseless spoke of when Harry was to be fed and who would be coming down to...play with him and left.

He was left in his own thoughts, absently jingling the chains to a beat. In Harry’s desperation, he somehow came up with the absurd idea he would seduce Voldemort and pull a reverse Stockholm syndrome thing. He knew the theory of it, thanks to Hermione’s recent rants about the romanticization of it in beauty and the beast when stuck in a tent and was securing Voldemort’s death just in case he accidentally fell in love with that...man. The plan was simple, pretend to have Stockholm syndrome and make Voldemort willingly attempt to reciprocate his feelings to use him to his advantage. If Harry ended up actually liking Voldemort somehow through pretending like Mrs. Weasleys romance novels, Voldemort would self destruct because of the vow. And each and every one of his horcruxes, probably. That might be a stretch, but no one knew of his horcruxes and therefore couldn't bring him back with those anyway. 

But this required very, very careful timing, secretive thoughts, and a delicate balance of his explosive emotions.

So, clear his mind, huh?


	2. Dumbledore's idea of the power of love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> convos with a few fellow prisoners :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this. bro why did i make this fic so slowwwww

“You foolish, foolish child,” sneered Snape, stepping into his cell as he held up his wand, presumably to cast a silencing-oh. muffliato. “Why in the name of Merlin did you speak His name? Were you trying to get caught, Potter?”

Harry glared at him, limbs still trembling from the cruciatus for the hundredth time. God he hated Lestrange. “Rub it in, won't you? Why do you care, anyway, you should probably be delighted they caught me! You've always hated me,” he snapped, voice wheezy and scratchy.

Snape sucked in a breath, dark face blanking out. “Why do you think Dumbledore accepted me as a spy?” He drawled out, carefully watching his face.

“Dumbledore trusted too easily, obviously, why else?” Harry tried to sneer, muscles not cooperating. 

“You are..correct. However, he trusted his judgment too much, not me. He wanted you to hunt down all the Horcruxes- yes, Potter, I know of the Horcruxes,” he added when Harry made a face of disbelief. “According to Albus, you are a Horcrux. Ah, but you see, that's what he means by the ‘greater good’,” the side of Snape”s mouth almost curled up as Harry’s face spasmed.

“I don't believe you,” Harry rejected, desperately trying to deny the doubt he had of Dumbledore, the doubt he had since day one of learning of the philosopher’s stone. He couldn't afford another emotional hit, he was already so exhausted trying to change his emotions for Voldemort 

"You don't have to," Snape amended, looking like he would roll his eyes if he wasn't so dignified. "But you will have to learn occulmency and some wandless magic if you want any chance of escape. I am not a big fan of Dumbledore nor the Dark Lord, and as I've already vowed to keep you safe during your Hogwarts years and you're technically in your seventh year, there will be no chance I would be harming you on purpose."

When he finished, Harry immediately replied, "you're not teaching me occulmency again. Unless you have more to say than 'clear your mind' you can stay far away out of my head.” he hugged himself protectively, almost accepting the fact that he would lose another element of his privacy. “And what do you mean? You vowed…." he trailed off.

"Meditate, then, know and control your emotions. Build up a shield in your mind, if you can. Redirect your thoughts," Snape said, genuinely surprising Harry, who almost went slackjawed but ended up chattering his teeth. he forced himself to relax, easing the shivering. Snape left the cell and locked the door once more avoiding the second part of the question, leaving Harry to his haywire emotions. Well, this was a good time to get started, right? 

Harry did his best to label his thoughts and emotions, but mostly entertained the idea of being a horcrux. In an attempt to disprove the theory disrupting whatever peace he had, he took out the snitch. " _I am about to die."  
_

Oh-

It opened.

This was fine. He was alive. 

...He really was a horcrux.

He glared at the tiny unknowing obsidian rock sitting within the golden snitch, trying to convey his betrayal to Dumbledore. But you couldn’t speak to a dead man.

But he _could_. The rock was the resurrection stone. But- he glanced at the metal bars. He wasn’t having any private conversations anytime soon.

“So, why are you down here? You were getting tortured there for quite a while.” a trembling male voice asked.

Trying to keep his mind off the subject, he replied. “Well, like the idiot I am, I said Moldyshort’s name. Got caught. Found out I was part of the order. You?” he tucked the stone into his pouch and closed the snitch, releasing it as its wings fluttered to hover above him. He smiled faintly, remembering the first attempt on his life. 

“Similar story. Got caught by Snatchers. I’m muggleborn and in the Order. Name’s Ted.”

Something in the back of his mind itched. He’s heard of a Ted somewhere. “Ted Tonks?” he inquired.

“Huh. yes. Do you know me?” the voice asked through the wall.

“Indirectly, yes. If I say anything more I might expose information about the order. There must be some Death Eater keeping watch or something,” Harry reasoned. 

Well, who are you, then? Since you know me,” 

“Just the one and only Harry Potter,” he sighed bitterly. 

“ _What?”_ he heard a few voices echo around the dungeon. There were more people listening in than he thought. 

“How are you still alive? You’re undesirable number one! No offense but we expected you to be dead if you were ever caught!” a female voice echoed down the dungeon halls. 

Harry slumped at the wall, tapping his fingers on the stone floor. “Well,” he started hesitantly. “Since I’ve been a thorn at His side for all of my life, he wants to see me watch everything I love burn down.” he finished grimly. 

Silence. Then, 

“How would he know what you value?”

Harry did pause, then, realizing there was another thing he could potentially manipulate. “Probably legilimency,” he pondered out loud, promising himself to take Snape’s advice seriously. There was no way to redirect Voldemort from trying to attack his best friends and maybe Quidditch? But he could still protect Snape and the prophecy- Merlin, was Voldemort so happy to see him caught that he didn’t immediately try to find out about the prophecy? Now that- that was something he was totally willing to exploit. Having a good three years of making bullshit predictions in Trelawny’s class, it was quite easy for him to convincingly change the words in the prophecy. 

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but_ **_he will deny_ ** _what the Dark Lord knows not... and_ **_each must give their heart of the other for neither can thrive while the other survives_ ** _... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...._

There. That was subtle and vague enough to be an actual prophecy. ‘He will deny’- he shuddered at the thought- _his love-_ for Voldemort. He kept in the ‘mark him as his equal’ part to prevent bearing the actual dark mark, and put in ‘must give their heart to the other for neither can thrive while the other survives’ just to push the man to give him better living conditions and maybe even be emotionally vulnerable, who knows. The man might even be defeated by the misuse of the power of love. Sorry, Dumbledore. But he was misusing Harry’s love for him as well, so. Just a little revenge. 

“Tter? Potter!” he was startled out of his thoughts by the familiar voice of one Draco Malfoy- who was rattling his bars, hair dead and floppy, grey eyes zoning in on the snitch.

**Author's Note:**

> Just realized how short this was, typing on an iPad skewed my estimate of the word count but thats fine


End file.
